Poem by John Grey

Bless Bless the morning.Coffee-wise, sun-sensible,we can agree on whywe disagreed last night.The hour accedes to the rhythmof me unfolding the newspaper,you pouring milk into a glass.Of all the peace, I prefer the humblest,pajamas, bathrobe, buttered toast,and a day that has no rear-view mirror.Open the window.Soak in bird song.Not a note in there on howthe eagle took their young.John Grey is an